


Alone

by crimsonhope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Although, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, As well, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Family, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Loneliness, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Protective Anakin Skywalker, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonhope/pseuds/crimsonhope
Summary: “Were you… going somewhere?” He changed the topic quite suddenly, but she could already sense that question lurking at the back of his tongue before he actually spoke it.“Nowhere in particular.” She admitted, knowing how these words were only bound to inspire another wave of guilt for him, but it’s not like she had any convincing lies up her sleeve. She didn’t feel like lying to him, anyway.[after everything has been dealt with, ahsoka once again finds herself searching for a particular direction. anakin just doesn't want her to be alone. aftermath of a nonexistent fix-it fic - SEE NOTES]
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after a ROTS/clone wars fix-it AU that i'll never actually manage to write – order 66 has been dealt with, sand boy overcomes his anger issues because his friends are actually there to help, palps is dead (defeated at most), so you know, the usual stuff  
> i’m not saying ‘everyone lives/nobody dies’ because i need some of that angst, but our favs are mostly okay – so KEEP IN MIND that in this universe order 66 was eventually stopped, but not prevented, and many jedi, especially at the temple, were ultimately killed  
> and so the jedi order sort of… crumbled? which brings us to this aftermath  
> (the martez sisters are merely mentioned, i promise that’s all)

Regardless of how used she got to penetrating the undergrounds, Ahsoka still couldn’t shake the considerable feeling of ease that overcame her as soon as she emerged back from the depths of Coruscant. The noise, the traffic, or the questionable air quality be damned; the surface was where she grew up, and will probably always feel most at home – if there was one truth she had to accept, that was it. The word “home” may not have been inspiring particularly positive sentiments for her at the moment, but she couldn’t come up with any other way to describe the overwhelming sensation of finally being able to drive her speeder with only the stars hovering above her. And if she was allowed to miss anything of her previous life, it also happened to be her one conscious choice – amongst the abundance of other, unconscious ones, of course.

Paying Rafa and Trace a visit had felt like a spontaneous, but natural decision. Maybe part of her desperately wanted to manifest the fact that she actually had friends on the outside – if she could even call them friends, an uncertainty which may very well have been an additional source of motivation for her visit. Another part of her simply wanted to make sure they were okay, despite the fact that they’ve been living there far longer than herself, and certainly knew better how to handle themselves in that world. Ahsoka’s own experience of the undergrounds consisted mostly of bad, in some cases horrible, memories, so she knew that her point of view was biased, but she couldn’t quite stop herself from going. Besides, she didn’t really have much holding her back – much, because the word “nothing” still felt too vast and slightly scary.

The past couple of days have allowed her to hold onto “much” for a little while longer, and she was afraid to let go, because this time it really was bound to be over. It had to be. She did, in fact, try to view the visit as the first step to actually moving on, since the trip already came easy to her. Only she knew that the impending change wasn’t _supposed_ to be easy, and she herself wasn’t supposed to go through it smoothly, not as smoothly as the speeder she now drove appeared to glide along the pathway that was to be found between the massive pipes leading her to and from the entrance to the underground levels.

Subconsciously, she alternated between accelerating and slowing down. On her way to the Martez sisters, she never really thought about what she was going to do on her way back. And back to _where_ , precisely? The motel room she had – Force, even that seemed so long ago – was undoubtedly out of the question by now, due to her absence. She could always get a new one. Or maybe it would be wiser to start looking for something permanent? _Nothing’s permanent_ , her mind scolded her bitterly, provoking the same tightness in her chest she felt in prison, then later on trial, and multiple other times since coming back from Mandalore.

The irony was that she _did_ have places to go back to, or rather – people. She knew she could knock on any door in the 501st barracks and be immediately welcomed to stay as long as she liked. She knew she could appear on Padmé’s doorstep anytime and the senator would offer her a room, much like she already had multiple times during the most unfortunate periods in Ahsoka’s life. And, more than anything, she knew that if she ever voiced her concerns to Anakin, he wouldn’t rest until he’s secured her a place to live, even if it came down to constructing it with his bare hands.

Actually, he would probably start by asking her to move back into the temple.

It wouldn’t mean asking her to _come_ back; no, they were both past that point – maybe not yet on the deeper, psychological level, but rather in the literal sense. Anakin knew she would never rejoin the Jedi order, and asking her _again_ would only cause more damage. Now, however, it’s was hard to define what the “Jedi order” actually meant, so living in the Temple didn’t have to imply much more than finally having a roof over her head again. There was no doubt Anakin has kept her room exactly as she left it – knowing her ( _former_ ) Master, she couldn’t blame him for continuously holding out hope that she would return, no matter how futile that hope was.

Four slim and all too familiar towers greeted her on the horizon, already free of smoke, yet with their Force signatures still emanating a overwhelming amount of grief, which was bound to become a permanent feature inside of the Temple walls. Of course, her indecision had to lead her towards the most familiar parts of the city, despite her (rather weak, actually) attempts to detach herself from that stage of her life. _Is that truly what’s happening here? Working on the Maul case alongside the Mandalorians, pretending not to, but knowing that it would ultimately lead to contact with the Republic?_ Apparently trouble was not the only thing she couldn’t stay away from, although trouble managed to find her even after she actively decided not to follow it, which was not the case here. It seemed that, unless she stopped, she would always end up following the past.

On the surface of Coruscant, there weren’t many places one could stop at that weren’t private landing platforms or public surfaces flooded with crowds of citizens. To find some peace, she would have to park her speeder somewhere and walk to the nearest public garden area, that would probably end up being full of people, anyway. She also didn’t fancy leaving her speeder unattended, Force knows she’s had a handful of problems with it already. The only promising spot appeared to be the various crate pathways spreading on top of the pipe system. Compared with the size of the area, any living being took up so little space there that she could easily bring her speeder to a halt and perch herself on top of some metal barriers unnoticed.

The sun was already gone, the remnants of its light on the horizon serving as her last reminders of the events of the day. Events of the week, in fact – this was the first time since Mandalore that Ahsoka has actually noticed the night falling, not to mention toyed with the perspective of getting the proper amount of sleep. Sleep – right, that is if she finds a place to do that.

As if on cue, there was a gentle knock against her shields, one she should have been expecting, really – and upon searching her soul, she realized that she actually had. So much for letting go.

_You okay?_

She smiled, feeling a pleasant kind of warmth spreading through her.

_Yeah._

It was quiet for a moment, but Anakin lingered. She could feel his curiosity, his constant, and thus familiar worry, amidst multiple unasked questions.

_Where are you now?_

She projected the image to him. It was simpler to do that than speak up, and it’s not like there was a coherent way to describe her location – no address, no particular building or street level. Just Coruscant.

His sudden, yet subtle relief at knowing that she hasn’t left the planet brought a smile to her lips, despite knowing that it only proved the point further – the point being that, once again, she couldn’t quite let go yet.

_Can I find you?_ The question sounded fragile.

She didn’t need to ask herself what her heart wanted, because the answer was obvious, if a bit embarrassing. But she allowed herself the luxury of the past one more time – the _last_ time, she swore – and since attachment was officially _not_ the Jedi way, what she was doing somewhat served to defy that principle, so it couldn’t be much resembling of her former status. _Right, as if she, or Anakin for that matter, ever followed that principle to begin with._

She sent her agreement to him across the force.

He arrived soon, on a single person speeder as well, and for some reason it reminded her of how they once used to share large speeders each time they had to scour the depths of Coruscant on a mission. Once he saw her, Anakin lowered his shields ever so slightly, allowing her to sense his greeting and assure her that he was doing alright. Considering what they – _he_ – just went through, she was grateful for the honest confession.

“How are the tiny Skywalkers?” She asked, because it kind of felt inevitable. Not necessarily because she thought that was the obligatory opening question to ask new parents (honestly, how would _she_ know), but because his children seemed to be occupying such a huge part of Anakin’s conscience at any given moment that it was difficult not to think of them whenever she saw him. Besides, it’s not like they didn’t occupy a significant part of _her_ thoughts as well.

Kriff, _children_. In a way, that almost beat the event of defeating the Sith. Defeating them was always a possible future scenario for Anakin, but being a father – now clearly one of the best things that could have happened to him in his life – sounded almost ridiculous.

Of course, at the end of the day, she would argue that any children of Anakin will undoubtedly turn out fine, more than fine. (After all, _she_ mostly turned out fine, even if after everything that happened he refused to give himself credit in that department, for all she suspected).

“They’re mostly loud and demanding.” He sighed, but there was a visible smile playing on his lips.

“Well, _I’m_ not surprised.” She joked, elbowing him as soon as he joined her sitting position, balancing on top of the metal pole. “Are you?”

“If you think you’re funny, I’ll let you know that Obi-wan said the _exact_ same thing to me yesterday, so that wasn’t exactly an original insult on your part.” Anakin was faking annoyance, and grinning at the same time. She couldn’t help but match her expression to his.

“Did you leave Padmé all by herself?”

“Of course not, she has her handmaidens and all… and she’s already better at this out of the two of us, so we probably shouldn’t try it the other way around just yet.”

“Scared they start floating things already?” She teased. A slight look of horror passed through Anakin’s eyes, before he huffed out a laugh. “And there’s _two_ of them.”

“Yeah, I _might_ end up needing some help. Eventually.” He glanced at her. “But I didn’t sneak out or anything. Padmé knows I’m here.”

Ah, so it was coming. Again.

“Were you… going somewhere?” He changed the topic quite suddenly, but she could already sense that question lurking at the back of his tongue before he actually spoke it.

“Nowhere in particular.” She admitted, knowing how these words were only bound to inspire another wave of guilt for him, but it’s not like she had any convincing lies up her sleeve. She didn’t feel like lying to him, anyway.

His internal struggle in that moment was clear in the Force, his impatience even more so. He wished to get to the point, only he didn’t know how – so what if they both knew exactly what that point was, it still didn’t change the fact that he appeared scared. Scared mostly to impose, probably, to have her run away from him if he sounded too _protective_ , scared to contribute to her leaving, again. He still felt like he was to blame, _kriffing idiot_.

It was her trial, it was her _choice_. If there was one thing she _actually_ blamed him for, it was forgetting about these two facts sometimes.

“Spit it out, Master.”

She knew exactly what memories she was summoning by calling him that, and she hoped he knew the effort wasn’t supposed to be hurtful in any way. It would have hurt them both, after all. Right now, she meant to send a signal. A sign.

It wasn’t supposed to carry any promises either. Fortunately, they’ve already discussed the impossibility of what she might have been conveying right now if he were to take her words literally. Ahsoka believed that he had by now learned not to.

“Master Yoda left for some planet far across the Galaxy.” He started. “He didn’t leave much. Or… say much. I mean, he _did_ , but it’s… you know. Yoda.”

Ahsoka nodded ever so slightly, wondering why exactly he chose to start by talking to her about the Grand Master, out of all things.

“So… he just left everyone at the Temple?” _Everyone sounds quite harsh, doesn’t it? There’s barely anyone left alive._

“Many have already left. But the crèche masters are still taking care of the youngest, from what I know. I don’t think they’re being trained like before, though.”

Ahsoka couldn’t tell if he was glad, disappointed, of just conflicted as usual.

“Obi-wan wants to stay there as well, for the time being.” Anakin himself obviously didn’t, so the statement passed between them unsaid.

Ahsoka considered how the Temple might look like right now. Being there the way she was just recently didn’t truly count as a visit, and her memories greatly served to confirm that. _Rushing. Screaming. A dark blur. Blood, so much blood. And only at last, a light in the middle of the darkness._

Anakin placed a hand on her shoulder, and she forced herself not to flinch at the overwhelmingly familiar contact. Simultaneously, he send her a wave of calm. She was trying to get used to the new frequency of his emotions and force nudges. The pattern was the same, and so was the person, but he felt… different. In a good way. An utterly good way, even.

She certainly didn’t miss the constant, underlying anger, directed at everything and nothing in particular.

“Do you still want to be a Jedi?” She finally dared to ask.

The question didn’t prove as shocking to him as she initially expected it to, which made her realize that the topic wasn’t all that new for Anakin. But he didn’t give her an answer straight away, either.

“I don’t know.” He said finally, then allowed for a moment of silence to pass. “What even is a Jedi, right now?” _I probably wouldn’t qualify, anyway_. He added that part mentally, only for her to hear.

“ _I_ certainly wouldn’t know, would I?” The joke landed flat, so it didn’t even end up being a joke, which made her cringe internally. Nowadays, the banter came easily to them only until a certain point. They would get there one day, or so she hoped.

“Okay, I didn’t actually come here to talk about me – there’s already been enough talk about me recently – but points on tricking me into changing the subject.” There was a twinkle in his eyes, like the old days. She was afraid to stare into his eyes for much longer, though – it didn’t really help with her internal struggle of going back and forth between what was familiar, and what was – seemed – necessary.

“Then what?” She didn’t mean for it to sound _as_ cool, but it must have, a little bit. It would have been difficult to make Anakin more uncomfortable than he already was, (un)fortunately.

“You’re free to do whatever you want, _obviously_ , it’s your life…” Bits of his own resentment were shining through right there, as well, but she liked to think he wasn’t doing it on purpose, either. “But I want you… I mean _we_ want you to know that you can stay. Anytime you want. And it doesn’t have to be like old times, that’s not what I’m getting at… I hope you know that.”

“I do.” She gave him a light smile. “It’s just… I feel like coming back in any sort of way would always keep me from doing what I need to do.” Whatever that was. She tried looking for answers in the Force, but there was just _Force_. Nothing hidden, and yet nothing quite clear.

“Like what?” Anakin frowned, but he didn’t sound opposed this time, simply curious.

“I just… I feel like I really need to change things.”

“Things have already changed a lot, don’t you think?” Anakin mumbled.

They did. He was probably taking about ending the war, but she thought it started back when she left the Order. From there, it was as if has set herself on the path of constant change. _Remember – nothing’s permanent_. The Force had felt so dark then, even if leaving did grant her a lot of emotional relief – the world was simply shrouded in something she could only describe as “unpredictable”, and there was nowhere to run away from it, even before abandoning the Order. She was convinced that Anakin could feel it too, even Obi-wan, although neither of them spoke about it. It hung in the air, both on the battlefield and in the Room of the Thousand Fountains.

That darkness, however, appeared to be gone now. She could easily attribute it to Sidious having been destroyed, but she felt like it was much more than that. Which now left her in a lighter world – but it _left_ her, nonetheless.

“Things certainly have changed – mostly for the better, I guess.” She smirked at him, the image of two wailing newborns before her eyes. “But I don’t want to take advantage of that too much. That would be too… easy.”

“Some changes happen precisely for you to take advantage of them. There’s nothing wrong with allowing things to be easy if that means you’re happier because of it.” Anakin supplied gently.

“But that’s the thing – I won’t be happier! Or sadder! I just won’t know _what_ I am, because the Force won’t tell me!” She felt a sudden flare in her chest, as if the Force was responding to her complaints only by appearing even more confusing. There was absolutely no reason for her to cry – _she didn’t want to cry now_ – but she could tell she was somewhat on the verge. “When I left, I _knew_ I was following the will of the Force, and in turn it seemed to follow me back, but now… it feels like I’m alone, somehow. So maybe I _need_ to be alone. To figure it out.”

 _Without the Council… and without you_ , is what remained unsaid.

“The Jedi are nonexistent.” Anakin said, out of the blue. “But the Force is still there. It’s not the Force that decides whether you’re alone or not. It decides your path, but not the way you choose to walk it.”

Ahsoka frowned. There were times when the Force appeared to be doing just that – choosing the way she walks, despite her efforts to do it in a different way. It kept messing with the world around her. The bigger path just remained undetectable, as it always has.

“I can’t go back… and no matter how much you want to help me right now – I _know_ you are,” She hoped her hand on his forearm conveyed the message. “Even you are not able to tell me what to be."

This time, her words actually provoked a wave of hurt in Anakin. This one time, when she was making a conscious effort to sound grateful – this is when she had to hurt him, and it made her feel even worse.

“I’m not telling you _what_ to be, Ahsoka. I never could, and I never will. I never _want_ to.” With the way he was staring at her, he was basically begging for the eye contact. “I’m only asking you to be _with us._ With everyone here who cares about you, and that’s a lot of people, and _you_ know that.” He almost smirked at her, almost teasing, _almost_. “Don’t just _let_ yourself be alone. Come however you want, and whenever you want, but please don’t pretend like you don’t have anywhere to return to, like you don’t have a _family_ , because you _do_ , Snips.”

It was the ‘Snips’ that broke her.

This wasn’t her Master, this was her best friend. That’s what he was first and foremost, and she may have been confused with what the Force was trying to tell her, what it wanted her to do, it certainly, without a doubt, _didn’t_ want her to abandon him. Maybe she should start there. The Force once told her that it was time to leave, but it’s not like her heart didn’t ache at all for some that she left behind, as if they were a single concept, a unified entity. Had they been, things would have never gotten so complicated, because in that entity, they were people who didn’t wish that fate upon her, although many of them couldn’t even fight in her name, some of them didn’t fight hard enough, and one of them fought almost too hard. She could already feel it deep down halfway through the trial – she wanted _out_ , whatever that meant, but most of all, after everything was over, she wanted a breath of fresh air. Now, it felt like she had not only got it, but she had it pumped into her, then sucked out of her once again, just to currently be able to sip on it bit by bit, slowly, and not really sure when.

The cool, night breeze around them definitely smelled fresh, even despite the pollution, as she sat there, letting the tears fall and sobbing gradually take over.

“Unless you don’t like us.” Came a mockingly disappointed voice from beside her. Oh, right, she hasn’t yet said a word to Anakin in response.

He appeared to be itching beside her, not knowing if he’s allowed to react or not, save for some tears that clearly made their way into his eyes as well, which was something he usually liked to hide, but now wasn’t even attempting to.

She allowed him to hold her, leaning towards him, until she could identify the well-known texture of his cloak against her cheek. With all seemingly in the past, he was still wearing one of his Jedi robes. Ahsoka supposed that if it was hard for _her_ to imagine Anakin in anything else, than it must have been even harder for Anakin himself, so he probably just needed time. They all needed time.

“I missed you, Skyguy.” She wanted to finally say _something_ , and this turned out to be the first thing that came to mind. The force hummed happily, carrying Anakin’s harmonious response, mixed with an amount of love that was almost a double of what he used to project to her, back when he was still pretending to have his emotions in check, or to not have them at all. What she felt from him now almost made her forget about the past for a moment. _Almost_.

“I’m not making any suggestions… but the guest rooms in Padmé’s apartment are much more comfortable than our beds at the Temple were.” Anakin commented from above her. “For now.” He added quickly.

She closed her eyes against him, and tried to remember what the Temple used to be like – what the gardens smelled like, the way sunlight filled the beige corridors, Obi-wan’s ridiculous plants by the window – _Don’t touch them Anakin, how many times…_

For now. She needed time to move on, but maybe she didn’t have to do it alone.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m already mourning the prequel to this because knowing myself it’s not happening  
> but hey, first fic since like 2015 that hasn’t just been written on my phone at 3 a.m., truly a redemption arc  
> as always feel free to roast any mistakes, i was not born with english on my poor tongue


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